


We Have Our Dragons (Celebrate HTTYD Day 1)

by amethystviolist



Series: Celebrate HTTYD Challenge Week [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Historical, Alternate Universe- Monarchy, Astrid is very clever, F/M, False Identity, Gen, Subterfuge, except for not realizing that Hiccup is extremely clever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 16:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6864790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystviolist/pseuds/amethystviolist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiccup- excuse me, His Highness Prince Hamilton Horatio Haddock the Third of the sovereign kingdom of Berk- is about to get married to a princess from a neighboring kingdom, thus unifying their countries to better defend themselves from the dragons that roam the lands. Trying to befriend Princess Heather before the wedding is difficult enough, but then Hiccup finds the legendary Black Dragon in the forest, overhears whispered treasonous secrets, and finds himself in the middle of a plot to overthrow the monarchy. Let's just say it's been a crazy few weeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sort-of-Chapter One-ish

**Author's Note:**

> **The following story is NOT historically accurate, and should not be taken as such. MOST elements have been changed for dramatic purposes. Thank you for understanding!**
> 
> So this isn't actually finished on time... Sorry. I plan to continue it when the challenge week is over. Leave a comment and share your thoughts!

“Hiccup! Hiccup, they’re here!” Fishlegs cried, bursting through the door and gasping for air. Hiccup dropped the book he had been unsuccessfully trying to distract himself with and ran to the nearest window with Fishlegs hot on his heels. The two boys slammed to a stop against the stone barrier and nearly pressed their noses to the glass to look out.

“There’s not as many as I thought there might be,” Hiccup sighed in relief. A long line of colorfully dressed servants, horses, and nobles streamed through the city streets toward the castle, perhaps a hundred in number instead of two or three hundred like Hiccup had feared.

“Do you think Queen Vanessa came, too?” Fishlegs asked, easily peering over Hiccup’s shorter frame.

“I think there’s only one carriage,” Hiccup relayed, and pointed to the elaborately adorned coach at the center of a troop of guards. “So probably just the princess.”

“Oh, right. And you don’t want two royals in the same carriage, it makes a too-easy target,” FIshlegs added knowingly. Hiccup drew back from the window, his countenance somewhat brighter.

“At least it won’t be several _hundred_ people watching me fail,” Hiccup said optimistically.

“You aren’t going to fail,” Fishlegs countered with smug confidence. “I’ve seen you hit the target three times this week. That gives you a two-hundred percent increase from what you how you were shooting last week!”

“So what exactly are my odds for killing the Black Dragon, assuming we find it?” Hiccup asked warily.

Fishlegs paused, looking momentarily guilty, then tentatively said, “Uh, well… Do you want the chance of you killing it, or the chance of you hitting it at all?”

Hiccup threw his hands in the air hopelessly and turned back toward the door.

“Look, you’re not going to embarrass yourself!” Fishlegs continued placatingly. “Just ask to use that weird bow thing you made-”

“Dad already said no,” Hiccup interrupted firmly. “I can’t change his mind about it; trust me, I’ve tried.”

“But the portability and speed of reloading could revolutionize warfare as we know it!” Fishlegs argued. “It would give Berk an advantage over wild dragons, over attacking armies-”

“I _know_ , Fishlegs, I invented it,” Hiccup groaned. He let Fishlegs go into the hallway first, and then locked the door behind them. The guards outside watched them go down the hallway, but did nothing to stop them. Hiccup knew that most of the soldiers currently had instructions to watch his movements, given his tendency to vanish during important political functions, but so far his father hadn’t locked him in the dungeon, so that was always a plus.

“I still think you should take it,” Fishlegs argued.

“Are you suggesting I defy the king’s orders?” Hiccup asked with a raised eyebrow, and Fishlegs immediately backtracked.

“No! No, no, no, of c-course not! That isn’t what I meant at all, no way-”

“Relax, Fishlegs,” Hiccup relented with a chuckle, patting the larger boy on the shoulder. “I’m just joking. I’ve already packed it in my saddlebags with some of its special arrows. And I readjusted the calibration, so it won’t go off accidentally this time. Well, hopefully.”

“Have you thought of a name for it yet?” Fishlegs asked as they made their way from the residential wing into the main area of the castle.

“I’m pretty sure I like ‘crossbow’,” Hiccup replied. “But I don’t know. Maybe ‘weird thing that sometimes shoots arrows’ is a better name, since that’s how everyone sees it.”

“I think that would be annoying to say all the time,” Fishlegs commented seriously, and Hiccup resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

They slipped into a side hallway and then through the rear door of the throne room. A few nobles were milling around the lower area, and with a quick wave, Fishlegs went to join his parents and siblings. The Ingermann clan looked pleased to see him reappear, but Hiccup dragged his feet up to the platform where King Stoick was already seated, and the king looked much less pleased to see Hiccup’s arrival.

“You’re late,” Stoick said through gritted, smiling teeth as Hiccup dropped into the less ornate chair to the right of the king’s.

“At least I showed up this time,” Hiccup pointed out. Stoick managed to glare at his son while still looking happy to anyone standing at a distance. It was probably a superpower that came with the crown.

“You’re not wearing the proper attire,” Stoick continued.

“At least I’m not naked,” Hiccup retorted. He had never shown up naked to any political function before, but still, the argument stood.

“The princess will be arriving in only a few minutes, Hic- gah, _Hamilton_. Your nickname is problematic at times like this,” Stoick huffed, more to himself than to Hiccup.

“It’s still better than ‘Hamilton’,” Hiccup grumbled, slumping down even further in his chair. “Why not just go ahead and introduce me as ‘Hiccup, the failure to the royal Haddock line’?”

“I suppose that would require you failing your lineage somehow, which _so far_ , you haven’t done,” Stoick replied sternly. Hiccup glanced up, slightly surprised. It wasn’t exactly a statement of pride, but it was probably the most positive thing Hiccup had heard his father say about him. He _wasn’t_ letting his ancient heritage down?

“Thanks,” Hiccup got out. Stoick just nodded once, but his lips quirked into a more real smile under his beard. Hiccup settled back in his chair, then suddenly straightened somewhat. He could do this. He would make his father proud.

“Pre-senting!” The announcer called out, and the mass of people milling about the floor suddenly melted into orderly lines and fell to whispering. Hiccup’s knuckles whitened on the armrests of his throne. The two main doors opened slowly, and musicians played part of the foreign country’s anthem as a small formation of people swept into the room. Some were guards, some were nobles, but one young woman walked at the center with her head held high with authority. Her blonde hair was elaborately braided, her eyes were framed with dark makeup to even further intensify their blueness, and her almost-matching-blue gown cascaded to the floor and made her appear to float forward instead of walk.

“Her Most Gracious and Beautiful Highness, the Princess Heather of the Kingdom of Axel.”

Princess Heather boldly looked Stoick in the eye as she made the tiniest dip of a curtsy, and after a quick glance to a woman at her side, began to speak.

“It is my honor to be received so well in your court, Your Majesty,” she said in an even voice. “My mother sends her apologies for not being available to attend to this matter herself.”

The words were rehearsed, obviously so, and Hiccup narrowed his eyes slightly. Was she empty-headed and dull like some of his cousins? Was she scheming and manipulative like some of his aunts? All Hiccup knew for certain was that she was at least close to his age, and… very beautiful.

“You are most welcome, Your Highness,” Stoick told her in his most pleasant voice, which was still somewhat of a growl. “Your chambers have already been prepared, and I’m sure you are tired. I would like to extend an invitation to you for dinner with us tonight.”

“Us?” the princess questioned, then belated added, “Sire?” Hiccup noted it. She wasn’t afraid to ask questions, apparently. Either she slighted the king by nearly leaving off his title, or she was usually informal when in private. Hiccup hoped it was the second.

“The people of my wonderful court, of course!” Stoick beamed, and there were excited titters from the crowd, “But more specifically, myself and my son, Prince Hamilton Horatio Haddock the Third.”

Hiccup barely withheld a grimace at the sound of his full name. Did Princess Heather have a nickname, too? Not that she needed one, really- her name was as beautiful as she was, if slightly plain. Hiccup was much better suited to his rather pathetic nickname than to the more regal ‘Hamilton’, as Scott liked to constantly remind him.

“It would be my pleasure to join you at dinner,” Princess Heather accepted with a slight inclination of her blonde head.

“Excellent! Welcome to Berk!” Stoick finished, and the court applauded as was appropriate. The princess and her entourage swirled out of the room in their colorful, embroidered clothing, and for just an instant, Hiccup’s eyes met Princess Heather’s. She looked away, but not before he had seen the well-concealed unhappiness there. Maybe it was loneliness, maybe hatred, maybe homesickness, but whatever it was, she clearly wasn’t happy here. And as the rest of the court trickled out, Hiccup decided that he was going to change that for the princess.

He figured that was the least he owed his future wife.

“Dad,” Hiccup said when the nobles were well out of earshot. Stoick frowned a little at the address, but Berkians weren’t well known for their formalities. The king turned slightly toward Hiccup, apparently listening.

“I’d like to take the princess on a tour of the property,” Hiccup requested.

Stoick turned to face him fully, and Hiccup tried not to fidget under his piercing gaze.

“Why?” the king asked finally, slightly suspicious.

“I want her to be happy here,” Hiccup replied truthfully. “If she’s going to be stuck here for the rest of her life, all because of a political move made entirely without her consent-”

“Hiccup…” Stoick said in a warning tone, and the teenager relented.

“Okay, sorry. Look, the point is, she won’t be happy here until it feels familiar. And this way she’ll get to know me _and_ the castle,” Hiccup explained. Stoick rubbed his chin, which was hidden somewhere under his unruly red beard.

“Very well,” Stoick said after a long moment. “But I want you to take a chaperone or two with you.”

“I will,” Hiccup agreed quickly. Fishlegs wouldn’t mind chaperoning them. Hopefully.

“You are dismissed,” Stoick sighed, and Hiccup practically bolted from his chair toward the rear exit.

Hiccup met Fishlegs at their usual corner outside the hall, and the larger boy clutched at Hiccup’s shoulders like he needed to be steadied.

“She is so _beautiful_ !” Fishlegs squeaked. “I mean, there were rumors, but _every_ princess is rumored to be beautiful, so it’s hard to know for sure- And you know, I always heard that Princess Heather had dark hair and green eyes like you so that’s weird that she’s-”

“Fishlegs, would you please stop that!” Hiccup hissed, dragging his friend toward the residential wing of the castle. “I need your help.”

“Okay,” Fishlegs agreed readily, then seemed to reconsider his quick answer. “Uh, what do you need, exactly?”

“I just need you to tag along when I take the princess on a tour of the castle,” Hiccup reassured him. “You don’t have to talk to her or anything. Just bring a book and try to stay with us.”

Fishlegs perked up, suddenly excited. “Can I borrow your book on the flora native to-”

“Yes! You don’t have to ask, you know. I’ll meet you outside Suite E?”

“Thanks!” Fishlegs scurried down a hall that led to the castle library, and Hiccup turned toward his room. As usual, two servants were waiting inside to help him change, and just as usual, Hiccup waved them off. The two men just exchanged amused glances at this point, long since given up on their prince’s strange ways. Hiccup pulled on a simple green tunic instead of the ornately decorated gold one, and some plain brown trousers. His hair was still slicked back with oil, but there wasn’t much Hiccup could do about that until he bathed later, so he tried to towel it dry as best he could and tossed his royal circlet crown-thingy on his bed. Feeling much more like himself, Hiccup waved to the two servants folding his clothes and slipped out the door toward Princess Heather’s rooms.

He had to at least try to befriend the princess. Especially if they were going to be husband and wife in just three days.

 


	2. Sort-of-Chapter Two-ish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiccup goes on an outing (NOT a date, Fishlegs, no!) with Princess Heather. They also discuss tomorrow morning's hunt for the Black Dragon.

Fishlegs was waiting by the door when Hiccup arrived, his nose buried in the book on plants or herbs or whatever he was reading about now. Hiccup paused in front of the door, and took a deep breath.

He knocked twice, loudly.

Shuffling motion and hushed voices came from within, before the door opened a crack.

“Yes?” the matronly woman asked warily.

“Hi, I’m here to see- er, I’m here to invite the princess on a tour of the castle and grounds,” Hiccup managed. The woman’s brown eyes swept up and down his small frame, her lips curled into a disapproving frown.

“And for whom do you carry this request?” she sniffed. Hiccup’s brows knit together in confusion.

“Myself?” he replied uncertainly. “Uh, Lord Fishlegs has graciously agreed to chaperone the tour, if that… helps.”

Fishlegs waved without looking up from his book.

The gray-haired attendant frowned more deeply after glancing at Fishlegs, and then turned her sour expression back on Hiccup. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid the princess will be unavailable for some time. Her Highness is very tired from the journey.”

“Oh.” Hiccup tapped his foot awkwardly, uncertain how to proceed from the rejection.

Fishlegs leaned forward and whispered, “Ask her to tell the princess you called and say something about tonight’s dinner.”

“Alright,” Hiccup agreed, and cleared his throat before continuing, “Well, could you tell Her Highness that I stopped by, and... Uh, that I look forward to our dinner tonight?”

“Your dinner toni-” The woman’s eyes suddenly widened significantly as her gaze snapped back to Hiccup’s face, scrutinizing him for some reason. Her mouth dropped open slightly. “Oh- Oh, of course, Your Highness, I didn’t realize you were- I think I hear the princess stirring now, one moment.”

The door closed in Hiccup’s face, and he blinked bemusedly at the woman’s sudden change in answer.

“She didn’t recognize you,” Fishlegs explained as if sensing Hiccup’s confusion, still not looking up. “She wasn’t going to let the princess go off with just anyone.”

“Should I have kept my formal clothes on?” Hiccup asked worriedly.

“The royal circlet might have helped,” Fishlegs said absently, turning a page.

“Now you tell me,” Hiccup grumbled, and self-consciously tried to fix his hair back the way it was. He had a feeling it didn’t work.

The door suddenly opened again, but this time it wasn’t the same sour-faced woman. Princess Heather’s sharp blue eyes looked Hiccup up and down critically, her arms crossed, and Hiccup found himself rather speechless.

“Prince Hamilton,” she began sternly, but Hiccup grimaced and waved a hand to cut her off.

“Please, _please_ don’t call me that,” he interrupted, finding his voice quickly enough to correct her. “Everyone I’m close to calls me ‘Hiccup’.”

“They don’t… ‘ _Hiccup_ ’, really?” The princess’s nose wrinkled in distaste, and Hiccup held his hands up in a helpless shrug.

“We don’t all have the same luck in names that you do,” he replied half-jokingly. “I’m much more suited to the nickname that came about naturally.”

“You said your nickname is for people you’re close to. We aren’t close,” Princess Heather said abruptly, and Hiccup gave her a slight smile. She was very bold, like his mother was said to have been.

“No, we’re not close,” Hiccup agreed placatingly. “But I’d like to be friends. If you’re not going to immediately write me off because of my misfortunate names, that is.”

“I- I’m not writing you off,” the princess muttered, dropping her arms to her sides and apparently forcing her face into a less hostile expression. “I suppose I’m just nervous about this… arrangement.”

“You and me both,” Hiccup mumbled, and then cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, uh, I’m here to take you on a tour of the castle and grounds, if you want to come.”

“I’ll come,” the princess said after only a moment of thought. “But Lady Jenna should chaperone.” Another woman appeared over Princess Heather’s shoulder, her mousy brown hair tucked into a cap. She looked older than the princess, and much more timid.

“Oh, alright,” Hiccup agreed, a little surprised. “Fis- I mean, _Lord_ Fishlegs is also chaperoning.”

Fishlegs once again waved without looking up from his book.

“Very well,” Princess Heather agreed primly, and stepped into the hallway. Lady Jenna followed, closing and locking the door. She and Fishlegs fell silently behind the two royals, and Hiccup cleared his throat in the strained silence.

“So, uh, would you prefer to see the inside of the castle or the outside grounds first?” he asked politely.

“You’re the one leading the tour,” the princess retorted, her blue eyes hard.

Hiccup smiled back uneasily. “Sorry. I just thought I’d give you the option. But, uh, we’re already inside, so, inside first, then?”

Princess Heather didn’t reply, but looked at him coldly.

So Hiccup set off down the hall, and thankfully the other three followed. Hiccup pointed out tapestries, decorative weapons, and let the princess go in every room that she wanted to. They visited the dining hall decorated with the colors of the princess’s home kingdom, Axel, and in the adjoining kitchens, the head cook Squatlog gave them specialty pastries. They briefly returned to the now-empty throne room, and then made their way to the armory, library, ballrooms, pantry, treasury, observation tower, and dungeons. Princess Heather seemed interested only in the layout of the castle at first, but the more Hiccup talked and made feeble attempts at humor, the more she seemed to be listening to his prattle about each location. By the time they exited the dungeon, she was actually laughing about a prank Hiccup and Fishlegs pulled off when they were younger.

“-and he runs in, screams, ‘Troll! In the dungeon!’ as loud as he can, and then he just falls flat on his face!” Hiccup finished, slapping his hands together for effect.

“He fell?!” Princess Heather laughed in disbelief.

“He fainted!” Hiccup corrected with a returned laugh. “Right in the middle of the hall!”

“In front of the whole court?” the princess asked, and Hiccup grinned as he stepped forward and opened a side door.

“That he did! After you, Princess Heather,” he suggested grandly, holding the door open with one straining arm. The sunlight brightened the flowering trees and tinkling fountains, making the gardens look even more beautiful than usual. But for some reason, the light in the princess’s blue eyes flickered, then went out entirely as her smile dropped from her face. Hiccup’s own smile slipped, and he looked at her with concern.

“Your Highness, are you alright?” he asked tentatively. Lady Jenna took a step forward, but then Princess Heather shook her head and straightened her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she said curtly, but the laughter Hiccup had worked so hard to find was now gone as the group stepped into the warm sunlight outside.

“We can go back, if you’re tired of the-” Hiccup began, gesturing weakly at the door, but the princess was already shaking her blonde head.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she interrupted, staring off into the garden to avoid Hiccup’s eyes. “I just… forgot my circumstances for a moment.”

“I thought you could use a distraction,” Hiccup admitted, and she turned to look at him with apparent surprise.

“You took me on this tour to distract me?” she repeated. Hiccup knew his cheeks were heating up, and he looked away determinedly.

“I’m sure you didn’t have any more choice in this political maneuver than I did,” he muttered. “I know that if our situations were reversed, I would want to forget about the upcoming ceremony. And get to know the foreign place so it would feel like a new home instead of a new prison.”

The wind rustled the nearby leaves, and Princess Heather’s blue eyes searched Hiccup for something. The prince shifted uncomfortably under her staring, but neither Fishlegs nor Lady Jenna seemed particularly interested in the odd exchange.

He wouldn’t quite meet Princess Heather’s intense gaze, but he did finally quirk a smile as he said, “If it’s any consolation, you’re already fitting in here better than I do, and I had a fifteen-year head start.”

“Nonsense,” she replied immediately. “I’m sure you have people who hang onto your every word.”

“Well, I think I have people who want to hang _me_ ,” Hiccup joked, and risked a glance up to the princess’s face.

One side of her mouth turned up into a sort of amused smirk, like she was trying not to smile, and Hiccup felt a small spark of pride. Maybe he could get her to laugh again with enough bad jokes.

“I’m sure no one wants you to hang,” she reassured him. “You’re far too entertaining.”

“Entertaining? Why thank you, m’lady, you’re far too kind,” Hiccup chuckled, dipping into a ridiculously low bow. When he straightened again, Princess Heather was fully smiling, and Hiccup grinned widely back.

The rest of the tour went smoothly. Princess Heather suggested that they race each other to the center of the maze, and though Hiccup won, it was only by a few seconds. In the nearby stables, the princess fed some of the horses apples from her own hand and smiled at their soft whickering. The two royals relaxed in the wooden swing at the edge of a lily-covered pond, tried to skip flat rocks, and it was the princess who stopped a book-engrossed Fishlegs from walking straight into the water when they rounded a corner of the walkway.

While Princes Heather was pinned down by a grateful Fishlegs talking passionately about native water plants, Hiccup slipped through the flower beds and selected a few blossoms to make a small bouquet. By the time the princess was about to push Fishlegs into the pond herself, Hiccup came to her rescue and ushered the four of them back into the castle, slipping the flowers to Fishlegs to hide behind his book. Eyes followed his hand behind his back, but when Hiccup looked, up, it was only Lady Jenna watching his motions alertly. He smiled at her nervously, but the woman just looked away, pretending not to have seen.

“Prince Hiccup?” the princess asked, and he turned back to look at her abruptly.

“I’m so sorry, what did you say?” he apologized.

“I asked what you do in your free time,” she repeated politely.

“Oh.” Hiccup scratched the back of his head awkwardly, watching his shoes nudge pebbles out of his path as he tried to think of how to phrase his odd hobby. “I, uh… I like to… make things.”

“Make things?” Princess Heather asked. “Like what?”

“Eh, whatever comes to mind,” Hiccup eluded the question. “I don’t really- My father encourages me to pursue more athletic activities.”

“Uh-huh,” the princess said skeptically. “Is it something embarrassing like needlepoint? Because I’m not judging you for liking to sew if that’s it-”

“No!” Hiccup yelped. That rumor did _not_ need to get out into the court. “No, no, it’s nothing like embroidery or- or weaving, it’s, uh… woodwork?”

“So you like whittling?” she clarified.

“Not… exactly,” Hiccup muttered, then loudly cleared his throat. “Uh, what do you like to do? In your free time?”

“Nope,” she grinned evilly.  “I’m not telling you my hobby until you tell me yours.”

“Oh, come on,” he huffed, and the princess laughed. Hiccup watched her head tilt back, the sinking sun lighting up her braided hair like flames, and her beautiful eyes squeezed tightly closed in mirth. She had a few freckles across her nose, like Hiccup did.

“That’s the deal,” Princess Heather said firmly, when she finished her laughter. Hiccup hurried a few steps ahead and opened the door for the group.

As the princess passed inside, he replied, “Then I suppose we’ll both have to remain curious.” She frowned, like she had expected him to cave, but Hiccup was determined not to tell her about his inventing until it was absolutely necessary. If she hadn’t already accidentally heard talk of his insane creations and massive accidents yet, he wasn’t going to ruin her opinion of him on purpose.

Hiccup closed the door behind them, and then gave the princess a mischievous grin. “So, ready to lead us back to your rooms?”

“Excuse me?” She looked rather taken aback, but Hiccup just kept grinning at her expectantly. “You want _me_ to lead the group back?”

“You had the tour- let’s see if you remember it,” he challenged her. Competitiveness sparked in Princess Heather’s eyes and she drew up to her full height.

“Of course I remember it!” she retorted.

“So which way do we go now?” Hiccup asked, raising one skeptical eyebrow.

“...This way,” Princess Heather replied somewhat uncertainly. She set off down the hallway, and the other three followed.

“Does she know that she’s taking us to the dungeons?” Fishlegs whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Hiccup whispered back, smothering a laugh.

Eventually, after revisiting a few of the stops on the original tour, Princess Heather managed to make it back to the residential hallway, and triumphantly propped her fists on her hips as she smirked at Hiccup.

“See? Told you I remembered,” she announced.

“Yes, and you remembered how to get to the armory, the kitchens, the library, and even the _dungeons_ on the way,” Hiccup chuckled. The princess scowled at him.

“I got us back, didn’t I?” Princess Heather huffed.

“Barely,” Fishlegs muttered, and the princess shot a glare in his direction.

“You’ll get better with practice,” Hiccup said more kindly. “The layout is fairly logical, and you seem to have a clever mind.”

Princess Heather looked slightly surprised at the compliment. “Thank you. I- I suppose I have your teaching to thank.”

Hiccup just waved his hands dismissively. “It’s the least I can do. If you ever need me, I’m always pleased to help where I can. Just follow the smell of disastrous smoke,” he chuckled.

“Smoke?” the princess repeated curiously, and Hiccup’s eyes widened. _Oops_.

“Right, so I’m going to go now and… help Fishlegs… with his… thing,” Hiccup managed to say, backing up down the hall as he stuttered. Fishlegs looked up at the sound of his name and blinked confusedly.

“What thing?” he asked blankly.

“You know, your… thing! Your... book thing.” Hiccup gave Fishlegs a significant look.

“Oh!” Fishlegs exclaimed belatedly. “Oh, right, yeah, my book thing. We’re going to go work on... books.”

“You have fun with that,” Princess Heather snorted, and Hiccup looked at her with delight. What royal dared to _snort_ in public? Maybe they really were becoming friends.

“Your Highness, we must prepare you for dinner,” Lady Jenna said very softly. “We have much to-”

“Yes, alright, alright,” Princess Heather huffed, then glanced back at Hiccup inching down the hallway. “I’ll see you at dinner, Your Highness.”

“Until then, princess. And I’m just _Hiccup_!” he added, before turning the corner out of sight. Fishlegs hurried around the turn after him, his book actually closed for once.

“I think that your first date went _surprisingly_ well!” Fishlegs exclaimed.

“Wow, thank you for the extreme confiden- Wait, it wasn’t a _date_!” Hiccup protested.

“Prolonged eye contact, forty percent increase in your chivalrous acts-” Fishlegs began to list.

“It wasn’t a date!” Hiccup repeated, his ears bright red.

“-a _sixty-two_ percent increase in humorous remarks, nearly-”

“I’m not listening to you!”

“-four hours for a simple ‘tour’ of the castle-”

“Oh, what’s that? I think I hear my dignity calling from _way over there_.”

“-and its grounds, and you had me hide these flowers-”

“Just for the table tonight!”

“-which are clearly an expression of attraction-”

“Okay!” Hiccup finally screeched, grabbing the flowers from Fishlegs’ meaty hand and protectively hiding them behind his back. “I get it, alright? It might have been… a little bit similar to a date.”

“It was definitely a date.” Fishlegs looked entirely too smug, so Hiccup just made a face at him and gave up the argument, turning and escaping into his room with a brief wave.

“See you at dinner!” Fishlegs called, and Hiccup paused to childishly stick out his tongue in response before closing the door firmly. The silence of the room was, for once, a relief rather than oppressively dull. Hiccup glanced into the adjoining half-room where the servants sometimes worked, but due to a rare stroke of luck it was empty. The prince exhaled quietly and started looking for a small vase.

“It wasn’t a date,” Hiccup told the slightly wilted flowers in his hand as he dug through the chest under his bed. “It was a friendship outing. A very friendly, completely platonic outing between two strangers. Two strangers who are betrothed… But I’ve only just met her! Friends only. It’s not like she could ever grow to like me that way anyway… right?”

Thankfully, the flowers didn’t respond.

Hiccup managed to unearth a little green and white vase that he promptly filled with the water he was supposed to wash with, and placed the flowers inside.

“Not a date,” Hiccup muttered one last time, and then decided that talking to flowers while alone in his room did nothing to dissipate court rumors of his insanity. The prince glanced outside, and if his guess of its position was correct, he had an hour before time for the official dinner. That was plenty of time to get ready! He happily grabbed a quill and flung himself into the chair at his work desk as fast as he could.

His crossbow-slash-'that-weird-thing-that-sometimes-shoots-arrows’ could still be improved with a faster reloading time, if he could just get the trigger calibrated right…

~~~~~

There was a knock at the door, and Hiccup heaved a pained sigh, dropping his pencil and closing his notebook.

“Who is it?” he called, getting to his feet and stretching.

“Your Highness, the king asks after your whereabouts,” a male voice said from outside. Hiccup frowned. Why did his dad want to see him now? He still had a full twenty minutes before the dinner started, at least since the last time he looked outside.

He glanced out the window and realized it was completely dark.

And the dinner started at sunset.

“Oh, maggots!” Hiccup snapped, and nearly knocked over the chair as he ran for the neatly laid out clothes on his bed.

“My apologies, I didn’t catch that?” the man outside asked.

“I just- Uh, tell the king that I’ll be there in five minutes!” Hiccup called back, hopping precariously on one foot as he yanked on the nicer set of trousers. Next the green tunic came off, and Hiccup forced his arm into the fancier sleeves as quickly as he could. There was nothing he could do about his hair now, but the princess and the rest of the court had surely seen worse. Hiccup flung open the door and got about two steps down the hall before remembering that he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

So it was almost seven minutes later when Hiccup slipped through the door and made the walk of shame between tables of nobles up to the head table. The second he pulled out his chair, his dad stood, and in turn the entire hall got to their feet.

“My son has decided to join us after all!” Stoick laughed, and there were a few weak chuckles from the nobles who were far too used to Hiccup’s tardiness to really laugh. Hiccup purposefully avoided meeting the princess’s gaze.

“Let us begin the feast in honor of the arrival of Princess Heather of Axel!” Stoick announced, and there was a smattering of polite applause before the king sat down again and the rest of the hall followed.

Hiccup stared down at the table, his distorted reflection in the plate almost mocking him. He knew his dad wouldn’t let this go very easily. The chattering of the many people in the hall picked up once more, giving Stoick the cover he needed to scold his son.

That’s what had happened the last few hundred times, anyway.

“Hamilton,” Stoick sighed after an unbearably long moment. Hiccup tensed at the sound of his given name. “I expected more from you,” Stoick continued quietly. “You’re the crown prince of Berk, and a leader of these people. I asked for one very simple thing, son: Don’t embarrass our family while this marriage is in progress.”

“I just lost track of time,” Hiccup muttered. “I didn’t think I would-”

“Exactly!” the red-bearded king interrupted. “You didn’t think! It’s time to start thinking _and_ behaving like the future king you are,” Stoick finished sternly, and Hiccup glared at his plate.

He wished he could talk back to his father, but honestly, Stoick was right. Hiccup was irresponsible and thoughtless when it came to matters of politic. He never asked to be a leader and the future king and all that, but that didn’t matter to Stoick, and it apparently didn’t matter to the people of Berk.

Food was brought to the tables by castle staff, and Hiccup managed to spot Fishlegs in the crowd as he stood to reach a plate of ham. Hiccup just picked at the food on his own plate, watching the noble families laugh and chat together.

The head table was uncomfortably silent.

“Ahem,” coughed an older man to Hiccup’s right. The prince glanced at him, and the nobleman took that as a cue to continue. Hiccup vaguely recognized him as Lord Rotwood, a member of Stoick’s advising council.

“Your Highness, are you looking forward to the ceremonial hunt tomorrow morning?” the white-haired man asked. Hiccup barely withheld a grimace at the reminder, but then he remembered the breakthrough he had made on his new bow just minutes ago. Fishlegs might have a new outlook on his chances after this.

“Actually,” Hiccup began brightly, “I’m cautiously optimistic.”

Lord Rotwood looked mildly surprised, but hid it well. “That’s very encouraging, Your Highness. May ask as to why you’re so confident?”

“I’ve been working on a… _technique_ that may allow me to have a better chance of hitting the beast should we actually find it,” Hiccup replied, purposefully vague. He could feel his father’s eyes watching the conversation closely for signs of crazy ideas.

“I went on a few Black Dragon hunts myself when I was younger,” the lord chuckled. “Never actually _saw_ the beast, mind you, but it was definitely there. Nothing but a shadow in the trees or in the sky, and then when you least expected it- BLAM!” Hiccup jumped as the old man made a sudden explosive motion. “It shoots bolts of fire so hot and powerful that they’re purple. It leaves claw marks on nearby trees. But that say no one’s ever gotten close enough to really look at it and study it, much less live to tell the tale!”

“That’s why I’m going to be the first,” Hiccup said with confidence. “I’ve researched everything on Night Furies I can find.”

Well, technically Fishlegs did the research, but Hiccup had received a _very_ detailed summary of each source.

“Oh, but the Black Dragon isn’t just any old Night Fury,” Lord Rotwood countered, laying a knobby finger to the side of his nose. “It has its own particular name because that beast is the spawn of _lightning and death itself_.”

Hiccup scoffed, “Those are just stories! The Haddocks have ceremonially hunted the Black Dragon for centuries. No dragon can live that long, or move that fast.” Hiccup leaned forward with interest now that the topic finally turned to hypothetical theories. “I think that it’s really multiple Night Furies living in the same woods, or perhaps migrating through. King Bork’s personal papers imply that-”

The king subtly cleared his throat, and Hiccup snapped his mouth closed.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you with the specifics of my research,” Hiccup recited dutifully, his teeth gritted in frustration. Just for once he'd like to talk about things that were _interesting_ , not just whoever was set to marry whoever.

“You could never bore me, Your Highness,” Lord Rotwood said kindly. “I can tell the subject is of great interest to you.”

“This arranged marriage is good for the kingdom right now,” Hiccup began carefully, “But I want to do something for myself, by my own choice, that will honor my lineage. Finally killing the Black Dragon will accomplish just that.”

“Are you discussing the hunt tomorrow?” Princess Heather asked, leaning forward from Stoick’s left to speak around the king’s bulk.

“That we are, my lady,” Hiccup replied, and smiled at her. Seeing her reminded him that in being late, the flowers he had picked for her earlier had been abandoned in his room. Oops.

“Personally, I always enjoy dragon hunts,” she declared, and the king, prince, and lord all looked at her with some surprise. The princess boldly stared right back. “I find them exciting! And the manufacture and use of weapons has always fascinated me.”

“Are you trained in the physical arts?” Lord Rotwood asked with sudden interest.

“I have had minimal training with many types of weapons for self-defense,” Princess Heather replied demurely, but Hiccup had the distinct feeling that she was lying. She seemed too interested for it to be a mere hobby- Hiccup suspected she was more skilled with weapons than was considered ‘ladylike’ for a princess. Maybe he would work up the courage to ask her about it later.

“I remember my wedding hunt,” Stoick sighed happily. “Nearly got a scale off the beast, but it must have tougher armor than I expected, and the arrowhead-”

“-broke clean off, and the shaft of the arrow shattered into a thousand pieces,” Hiccup finished flatly. “And then the dragon got away and your father called you back out of fear for your safety because the dragon was just _so close_ to you.”

Stoick turned a frown on his son. “Don’t be impolite, Hiccup. Princess Heather has not had the same privilege as you.”

“And what privilege is that?” Hiccup asked with a sigh.

“Listening to my grand adventures of days gone by,” Stoick replied as if it was obvious, and launched into a detailed story about a meeting Monstrous Nightmare and having only his bare hands to defend himself. Hiccup propped his chin on his fist and poked at his food, half-heartedly listening to Stoick’s stories as he waited for the banquet to be over.

“Some privilege,” he muttered to himself. Not that Stoick didn’t tell a good story- but Hiccup had heard the same yarns over and over again, and the dragons always got bigger and the weapons always got smaller, yet ‘Stoick the Vast’ always came out on top. Hiccup was no longer sure which parts of the stories were true and which were embellished, and he decided that he resented not knowing if his own father was telling the truth or not.

The banquet did finally come to a relieving finish. Hiccup darted from the hall as soon as was appropriate, and made no detours on the way to his room. The day had been an odd up and down combination of better-than-he-had-dared-hope and worse-than-he-had-ever-feared, and as a result, he was exhausted. Not to mention, tomorrow he had to somehow kill or injure the Black Dragon to secure good luck for the rest of his life. Hiccup barely paused to put on his sleeping clothes before falling into bed and praying for the oblivion of sleep.


End file.
